1

It was a leisurely afternoon under the warm sunshine. Kir laid stretched out, with his chin resting on his arm. It was tea time.

The light breeze gently brushed Kir’s hair. When our eyes met, he gave me a raw grin.

It was a beautiful scene. Bright blonde hair, as if spun out of fine threads of gold, and purple eyes that accentuated his charm.

What would have happened if he hadn’t been blessed with such good looks?

That angelic appearance, which somehow covered up his wicked personality, was praised a lot. And it seems to have become even more refined in the past year.

But you mustn’t be fooled by that face. You never know when his evil nature will make an appearance again.

His name is Kir. And he is rotten to his core.

Still, seeing that smile of his, it seemed like he was in a good mood. Perhaps it’s because it’s been a while since he last attended a tea time.

I really envy his soft hair fluttering in the wind. Unable to resist, I reached out to stroke Kir’s hair.

His eyes followed my hand, but he didn’t stop me. Oh, lucky!

He’d often let me do this when we were younger, but from some point on, it just stopped. Since it’d been such a long time since I’d last had this opportunity, I kept stroking.

It was as soft as silk. It would’ve been great if Kir’s personality was just as soft as his hair and that angelic appearance. Then he would be the most attractive guy in the world.

Ah, thinking of charming men reminds me of that driver I met yesterday. And the absurd incident that followed.

This is something you have to share with a friend to feel better.

“You know, I think I have a bit of a special ability.”

“What kind of ability?”

He asked in a bored voice, as if he wasn’t particularly interested, and was only listening for my sake.

It’s surprising how, even with his young age, he could still mask his tone and behavior with boredom. I’m scared of how dangerous he could grow up to be in just a few years.

I continued stroking his hair, and hoped he would stay at least this nice.

“The ability to seduce people by slapping them, perhaps?”

I said mysteriously, since it’s doubtful that it can truly be considered an ability. I was about to explain in more detail when Kir suddenly grabbed my wrist, stopping me from playing with his hair.

“Ah!”

My eyes whipped to Kir, surprised by his sudden behavior, wondering how I’d offended him. His eyes were burning like an eagle’s. The easy smile was gone, and his mouth had turned stiff and cold.

His angelic face disappeared, and a devil from hell seemed to take its place.

I shut up instinctively, sensing the dangerous atmosphere.

“Who did you slap?”

“N-no… what happened was…”

I started to explain, but immediately stopped when I noticed the fire of rage engulfing Kir’s eyes. I realized that he was on the verge of losing control. This was going to be troublesome.

He then shouted something I could never forget.

“I told you not to hit anyone else! If you want to hit someone, hit me! Hit me all you want!”

For a man who shouted such things, Kir’s expression was as serious as ever. My childhood friend’s secret taste hasn’t changed a bit.

***

My life was absolutely pathetic.

Oh, I should be more specific. My past life was absolutely pathetic.

Yes, I am someone who died and was reborn with a new body—a little unique reincarnation, since I can remember my past life.

In fact, I can’t even complain since half of my past life’s misery was self-inflicted.

My past life was on the shorter side. I died miserably at the age of twenty in an unfortunate accident. I never even got to experience a relationship, young as I was.

My previous life was pretty bland.

There’s this saying that ‘adults always know best,’ right? I can’t say that I completely agree, but in my case, it turned out to be correct.

You should study and go to a good university. Build up your specs. Your grades matter. Have a dream!

Of course, at that early age, the words just went in one ear and out the other. It all sounded like bothersome nagging to me.

Though my parents weren’t the affectionate sort, I still lived depending on them. So I didn’t know how harsh the world was. When you’re a kid, you don’t realize how sad and challenging making money could be.

“Are you sure you’re here to study? You should get some better grades.”

My homeroom teacher took me aside and told me when my report card came out.

‘Did you do well on your test this time? You need to study. If you live like that, you’ll regret it,’ and so on and so forth. I was so sick of hearing the elders’ nagging.

Yet, despite everything, I was not interested in studying and continued living as I pleased.

“When you grow up, you will have to make your own living.”

“We can only support you until you graduate. You should take care of yourself after that.”

My parents told me tiredly, instead of the usual nagging, when I handed them my report card.

My friends complain that they feel like dying after the several after-school academies their parents make them attend. But in my case, money was tight, and my parents spent so much time at work that my affairs were pretty much an afterthought.

We weren’t poor enough to starve, but I didn’t have the freedom to dream much and could rarely spend time with my parents. I could only see them as they went to work with a tired face.

They couldn’t miss work, so they never participated in any of my events, be it my elementary school graduation, middle and high school graduations, or entrance exams. I was always alone at home, eating the food in the refrigerator when hungry, from when I was in the lower grades of elementary school all the way up.

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